Freasian Mantal
by Jackie-B-123
Summary: Harry Potter is desolate. Abandoned by his friends and those he thought of as family, he's once again been left at the Dursley's house for the summer. Though on his birthday he comes into a strange inheritance, and things suddenly begin to make sense! Slash, Threesome/moresome, Yaoi, don't like don't read
1. Inheritances of the Painful Sort

Freasian Mantal

Chapter 1

Harry Potter stared out between the bars of his bedroom at Number Four Privet Drive, and thought about this last year. His Godfather was gone. The never coming back kind of gone and Harry didn't know what he was going to do about that. His Uncle Vernon had already started in with the beatings again, and was threatening with worse, but Harry just couldn't find it in him to care. He was so deep in his mind and depression that he didn't even notice as the fat tears started to fall down his face, or the rain that started to suddenly fall outside in the previously clear skies.

He was so tired of losing his loved ones, and of everyone expecting him to defeat the Dark Lord, even if he had successfully killed Voldemort because of Sirius' death. Not to mention Ron, one of his first ever friends, had turned his back on him once again. Just like in Fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament.

Hermione was stuck in the middle. She loved Harry like a brother, but she loved, or at least liked Ron, as more than that.

Harry didn't hold this indecision against her. In fact he didn't expect anyone to really side with him. At this point he simply wanted the pain to end.

Unfortunately for him, if he tried to kill himself, Dumbledore would know. For he had set up several new wards around Number Four, to prevent Harry from running away or offing himself. Harry couldn't leave the land that Number Four sat upon without being dragged back within the wards instantly, and in a very violent and painful manner.

The 'Savior' of the wizarding world didn't look much like a savior at all. In fact he was a thin, waif-like boy. His huge, expressive, and normally bright, emerald green eyes were a dull, lifeless green staring out the window sightlessly. There were several bruises on his face along with some old scars. His entire body was covered with bruises and scars, both old and new. All from his Uncle Vernon and Duddly. Aunt Petunia never raised a hand to him, but then again, Uncle Vernon beat her as well.

No one outside of the house could tell that the 'happy family' within was anything but happy. Harry had once upon a time tried to tell the Weasley's, but Mrs. Weasley had said that it simply couldn't be true. The only two who really believed it was bad were Fred and George, but when they had tried to tell her it was the truth she had told them to stop lying and to go de-gnome the garden.

Instead they had started slipping him more food in his weekly packages. Unfortunately Vernon had seen one close to the start of this summer and had mercilessly snapped Hedwig's neck right in front of Harry. He had gone through the next three weeks in a robotic sort of way. He stopped speaking period, and he had wandlessly warned any owl he had met that they shouldn't come anywhere near him.

He had been able to do things like that for the last two weeks. Talk mind to mind with animals. He was also more successful at gardening. Aunt Petunia's garden looked better than it ever had before. Which of course, had all of her neighbors in a tizzy. The house too looked fantastic. Harry didn't know what was happening, but his Uncle had been on a trip for three weeks and hadn't gotten home until yesterday morning. He had of course assumed that Harry had been at his 'freakish ways' again, and had used his magic to make everything so amazing looking. He had proceeded to beat Harry to within an inch of his life, and then he had locked him in his bedroom for the last two days. For it was now the evening of the next day, and Harry hadn't eaten in three days.

Even though tomorrow was his sixteenth birthday, Harry was not excited. He had thought he would be at the Burrow by now with the Weasley family, but no one had come to get him. He thought to himself that he shouldn't have even bothered to hope that someone could care for his 'freakish' self. He was just a freak anyway. No one could love a freak. No one would want to be friends with a freak like him. That was what Uncle Vernon always said to him anyway.

He of course believed it. He didn't think anyone could really love him, want him, or be friends with him. Why would they want to? He was always getting people killed, or hurt because of his curiosity and his rushing headfirst into things. Because he thought the wrong things. He had thought Snape was trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, had gotten Ron and Hermione hurt, and had almost died himself but had instead killed a Professor. Then he had gone into the Chamber of Secrets with Ron and Professor Lockhart had tried to obliviate them, but instead had obliviated himself with Ron's broken wand. Harry had saved Ginny, but almost died again. Then Sirius had escaped from Azkaban in his third year, and had hurt Ron trying to get to Peter Pettigrew who was the true Secret Keeper for his parents. Instead Pettigrew had escaped, Professor Lupin had turned into his werewolf form, Harry and Hermione had saved Sirius and the Hippogriff Buckbeak using a Time-Turner, and they escaped. Harry and Sirius had almost been Kissed by Dementors though. Then in his Fourth year the Triwizard Tournament had been hosted at Hogwarts and even though he was too young, Harry's name had come out of the Goblet and he became a Champion. Harry had come close to dying several times between the Tasks of the Tournament, the fake Professor Moody, watching Cedric die, seeing Voldemort return and then dueling him and barely escaping back to Hogwarts and avoiding death from said fake professor.

This last year had been the worst though. Umbridge and her craziness, plus leading the DA. He had been in Voldemort's mind all year and had though Sirius had been taken. Of course he hadn't, but Harry had gone to the Ministry anyway and Luna, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny had followed him. Sirius hadn't been there, but Death Eaters were. Then the Order came, and Sirius fought beside Harry, but Bellatrix had gotten in a lucky spell and Sirius had gone through the Veil. Which the Ministry said was one way. Harry in his rage had gone after Bellatrix, but Voldemort had appeared and he and Harry had battled it out. Voldemort had tried to possess him, but Harry had defeated him with the power of love.

Now though, Harry had become a prisoner. The Ministry didn't know what to do with him, and Dumbledore wouldn't let him leave Privet Drive. His Uncle was likely to beat him to death before the school year even came close to starting.

"BOY!"

Harry jerked out of his stupor and went to stand next to the right side of the door. He heard his Uncle unlocking the many locks on the door.

As it opened his Uncle sneered at him, and said "Go fix supper Freak. And don't burn any of it." His Uncle turned and waddled back down the stairs. Harry followed slowly after him, pushing the overly large sleeves of the hand me down sweater up his thin arms. He started cooking immediately upon reaching the kitchen and the stove.

He was just pulling the final pot off the burner and reaching to turn it off, when Dudley came up behind him and held his forearm down on the burner. Tears sprung into Harry's eyes and he bit his lower lip so he wouldn't make any noises. He bit it so hard that he started to bleed. Only when his Uncle could smell burning flesh did he yell at Dudley to 'let the freak go so he could bring them supper.' Duddly did so with a smirk on his face. Harry quickly put the food on the table and retreated to the farthest corner of the kitchen.

Once they were finished eating and had waddled to the sofa to watch the telly, Petunia helped Harry to put the few left overs up, since Vernon had said that Harry wasn't allowed any food for a week for using his 'freakishness.' They then washed the dishes, and Petunia locked him back in his bedroom. A little while later though she slipped a glass of water, burn salve, and some pain medicine into his room through the cat flap in the door. Harry was thankful for small mercies. He took the pills and applied the salve. He hadn't been able to steal any pain potions since he had been rushed straight to Privet Drive after the battle at the Ministry.

Harry was once again standing at the window staring outside. He looked at the clock in his room that read 11:45. The four and five were hard to read since the clock had been thrown against the wall by Dudley when he couldn't figure out how to make it work. Harry sighed and thought to himself 'fifteen minutes until my sixteenth birthday. It's just another year of torture to come.' Harry lay down on his bare mattress on the floor. He watched the clock change numbers as the minutes went by. Soon it read 11:58.

Two minutes. Harry started to feel a weird tingling in his bones.

One minute. The tingling was starting to hurt now.

Midnight. Harry's body arched up off of the bed as it felt like his whole body caught fire. His bones felt like they were stretching, and he opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. He felt as if his skin was stretching in impossible ways. The pain was unimaginable even one of his Uncle's most enraged beatings wasn't even half as painful as this pain was. Even five minutes under the Cruciatus wasn't as painful. He felt blood pouring out of his nose, and it felt like his fingers were turning into claws. His back hurt the most though, and suddenly he felt blood under his back, and when he sat up he felt something sprout out of his back. All he could recognize was pain though, and he soon passed out from it.


	2. Overly-Hyperactive House Elves

_I am so enthused by the amount of favorites/follows for this. I've done a crazy little dance every time I see one of them in my email. Which makes people look at me funny, but I don't care since that do that normally anyways. This chapter is rather short. Shorter than the first one and I apologize for that. I felt like it was an appropriate place to stop, and I don't really pay attention to the word count. Maybe I should... Anyways on to the story!_

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Freasian Mantal

Chapter 2

When Harry awoke the next morning, before the sun rose as he usually did, he could feel the wet blood that was still on his back and also on his mattress. He sat up slowly, and the room was blurry around him. He touched his face to see if his glasses were there. They were. When he took them off he could see clearly.

He blinked several times in amazement. He ran his hand through his hair, but felt something strange on the side. He carefully ran his hand over it. It appeared to be a horn. He put his other hand on the opposite side. He felt a horn there too. Harry's eyes went wide as saucers.

He had horns.

Why did he have horns?

He went to stand, and as soon as he made it to his feet he felt a draft on his back. He reached an arm over and touched what felt like feathers. He looked over his shoulder and saw what looked like white wings.

At this point Harry was just amazed. He had become even more freakish. He quickly put up a glamour, when he heard someone unlocking all of the locks on his door.

"Harry?" whispered his Aunt's voice through the crack in the door. "How is your burn?"

Harry dropped his glamour and looked down at his arm. There wasn't a burn there. His magic transformation into whatever he was must have fixed him. He had no bruises, and no scars. There wasn't anything wrong with him physically. At all. His first thought was that his Uncle couldn't see him at all. His second was that this made him an even bigger freak.

"Harry?" whispered his Aunt's frightened voice once more.

"I need to use the loo Aunt Petunia." Harry said just as quietly.

"Alright. But please be quick. No one is up yet, but I don't want you to get into any trouble." She said quietly. As she slowly opened the door, Harry threw the glamour back up and walked quickly past her.

Once he was safely in the bathroom, he dropped the glamour. He stared at himself in amazement.

He had two medium sized, white horns on the top of his head, and a pair of small, white feathered wings sprouting from his back. His eyes were the emerald of the Avada Kedavra curse and they looked even more mesmerizing than they had before. He had a small, pert nose and high cheekbones. He had wider hips, and a smaller waist than he had yesterday. In addition he had no physical imperfections, and his ears were pointed. His hair was much longer and thicker too.

What was he now? Besides more of a freak. He shook his head and looked at the shower. How could he take a shower with his wings out? He thought about them disappearing, and felt them start to retract into his back. It was painful. He ran a hand over his head and thought about his horns disappearing. Then he clutched his head in agony as they retracted back into his head as well.

Once he was able to stand straight again, he took a quick shower. After he finished his Aunt locked him back into his room. He let his horns and wings reappear. It wasn't painful to let them out, just to keep them hidden evidently. He didn't know what he was going to do. He put his head in his hands. Then he sat up suddenly. He could call for Dobby! Surely Dobby would know what sort of creature he was! He snapped his fingers and said "Dobby." Instantly the eccentric House Elf appeared.

The Elf was looking down at his feet. "What can Dobby be doing for Master-" at that point the Elf looked up and went wide eyed. "Harry Potter sir! Yous is a Freasian Mantal!"

Harry stared at the Elf in a bewildered manner. "I'm a what?"

"Freasian Mantal! Dobby has never met one! Only heard of them! But Dobby thought they were only tales to be told to children and small House Elfs! Dobby never thought they really existed!"

"Dobby what exactly is a Freasrn Mehtale?"

"Freasian Mantal Master Harry Potter sir. Yous is one. They is highly magical, mythical beings. They only help and heal. They is better at House Elf things than a House Elf is. Small House Elfs is told that if they don't do their best each and every day at everything they do then the Freasian Mantal be coming to teach them how to do it better."

"Dobby that still doesn't tell me what I am."

"Dobby will bring Master Harry Potter a book sir that tells you all about what yous is. But Dobby needs be taking Master Harry Potter somewhere safe first. For Master Harry Potter can't be staying with his relatives because he will start summoning his mates to himself, but first he needs to be in a safe place to consummate and bring small children into world."

By the end of Dobby's speech, Harry's eyes were as big as they had been earlier this morning. Dobby grabbed his wrist and then they were gone.

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_I'm not going to say you have to review, but I do enjoy reviews. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed this really short chapter..._


	3. Meetings with an ancestress

AN: Okay so here is Chapter three as promised. I have reviewed it twice, so any mistakes left that you see, point them out to me and I'll fix them. This is the last pre-made chapter, and it will (hopefully) be the last really short chapter. After this the chapters should start getting longer. No promises on excessively long, but they should be more than 1200 words. At least 5-6k is what I'm going to start shooting for. I'm done now. Watch my profile for updates on progress!

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Freasian Mantal

Ch 3:Meetings with an ancestress

When they finally landed, and Harry opened his eyes all he saw around him was a crème colored room. Everything from the couches to the wall was a crème color. The floor though, was tile of a beautiful blue color.

"Dobby where did you bring me to?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Dobby has brought Master Harry Potter to his ancestral home. Master Harry Potter is once again in Potter Manor. Nobody can forcefully take Master Harry Potter from this mansion without Master Harry Potter's express wish to leave." Dobby said his with a flourish.

Harry looked around amazed. "You mean I don't have to leave? And no one can force me to?"

"Of course not young man. I don't know why anyone would force you to leave anyway. The House Elf holding your arm is correct. You are a Potter. One of the oldest magical lines in the entire wizarding world." The voice that said this was cultured, elegant, and female. Harry looked to his right, which was where the voice had come from, and saw a portrait of an elegantly dressed woman with black hair, white horns, red, brown and blonde colored wings and pointed ears. "There hasn't been a male submissive Freasian Mantal in the Potter family in over five generations. But I am excited to welcome you to this ancestral home, and I look forward to teaching you many things. As will all of the other Potter family portraits."

Harry could only stare amazed up at the woman. Who was quickly becoming slightly flustered and frustrated with the silent boy in front of her. "Excuse me young man, but it is quite rude to stare."

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry miss. I just was never told that I had an ancestral home. I also have no clue who any of you are. I'm just very confused and – "

Before he could get another word out of his mouth the woman interrupted him. "You don't know who we are? How can you not know who your ancestors are?! How is it that your parents failed to introduce you to your family portraits?!" The woman in the portrait sounded outraged.

Harry looked down. "My parents died when I was one. They were murdered by a man I killed this past year. Not even four months ago." Harry was looking down at his bare feet, so he didn't see the woman's horrified expression.

"Oh you poor dear. Submissives are not meant to kill unless they are protecting their children or injured dominant. Even then the other dominants are supposed to be protecting them. Where are your dominants?"

Harry had looked up when she said 'other dominants'. "What do you mean other dominants? I'm going to have more than one?"

"Of course dear. You will have however many it takes to become with child, and then one who will help you stay sane. A 'grounding mate' if you will."

Harry looked extremely flustered at this, and simply stared with a wide-eyed expression up at the woman.

The woman in the portrait sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dear what is your name? And how long has it been since you received your inheritance?"

"Um well…." Harry looked down at his feet again. "Today is officially my birthday, so I haven't had it very long. My name is Harry James Potter miss."

"My name is Evangelina dear. And I am very glad that your House Elf here was able to bring you to us so very quickly. We shall start teaching you all that we can immediately. For soon you will start calling your dominants to you, and well. I'm sure you can guess what will happen after that."

Harry looked shyly up at the woman. "No Miss Evangelina. I'm not really sure what happens."

The woman looked flustered and outraged again. "Did the wizards who adopted you teach you nothing at all about submissive creatures?! Heavens what is this world coming to?!"

Harry looked very much embarrassed. "I lived with my muggle relatives Miss. They didn't like magic at all." As Harry said this his eyes went slightly vacant as if he was trapped in a memory of something unpleasant. Anything to do with remembering what had happened while he was with the Dursely's was unpleasant though.

Evangelina looked horrified. "A Potter. Was left. With. Muggles?!" She made a strangled distressed noise and quickly there were three men in the portrait with her.

Harry was jerked out of his memories when he heard several different male voices asking what was wrong. Was she hurt. Who hurt her. Along with many statements of sworn vengeance on whomever had hurt her in any way. Harry smiled a little smile at the men's antics.

Finally Evangelina made shushing noises, and looked horrified. "No one hurt me! No one needs to be hurt. Just hush!" All of the men stopped talking and just stared at her. "I'm just distressed that someone left a young submissive Freasian Mantal Potter, with MUGGLES." The men looked outraged when she said this, and looked out of the portrait to see who exactly she was talking about. At this point Harry had sat down on the floor and drawn his knees up to his chest, and hidden his face by laying it on his knees, and allowing his hair to fall down over him.

"Young man," asked one of the deeper male voices. "Is this the truth?"

Harry looked up at the painting through his hair. "Yes sir." He said quietly, yet loud enough to be heard clearly. The men looked aghast, and outraged.

"Why?" asked a lighter voice.

Harry looked down. "Because the Headmaster of my school said I was safest from Voldemort, the Dark Lord I killed, there. That was before I killed him though. After I killed him, Professor Dumbledore, my Headmaster, said I was safer there behind the blood wards since some Death Eaters were still on the loose. I don't think that was right though, since the only ones left were the ones who were forced to take the mark. Not that there are that many of them, but they certainly don't want to kill me."

There was silence after Harry said this. He peeked up through his hair to see all of the people in the portrait just staring at him, and Evangelina looking like she was about to faint or something.

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Told you it was short. Thanks for reading!


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